


Guidelines

by Chzu



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Consent, Demons, F/F, Implied/Referenced Torture, Lesbian Character, Meg Lives, Meg Masters Lives, Recovery, a little bit canon divergent, pop culture references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 06:18:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10270142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chzu/pseuds/Chzu
Summary: Meg was on the run, and Charlie knew a thing or two about running.(AKA everyone's favorite lesbian nerd tries to teach everyone's favorite morally ambiguous demon a thing or two about rules, and gets a little carried away in the process!)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I stopped watching Supernatural around two years ago, so this isn't exactly canon compliant, but imagine it takes place vaguely around the time of Season 8. Also, the glorious AU where Meg doesn't die!

“I hope you aren't _really_ convinced that you're going to magically redeem me, sweetheart.”

The voice from beside came in a low drawl, smoky and not without a bite of sarcasm.

Charlie turned to her, now. “Not magically, but wouldn't that be cool?” It just earned an eye roll from the blonde sitting next to her. “I was thinking we'd just take it steady until you start getting the hang of life as a human, or… as a _not evil demon_. You know, fighting the good fight.”

“Well, good luck with that.”

It had been nearly a week since Charlie found Meg. She'd been a bloody, bruised thing, damaged and broken, clutching a stab wound from an angel blade. Of course, Charlie had to help her, and _of course,_ she was in way over her head.

Meg was on the run, and Charlie knew a thing or two about running.

So, she took on the job of caring for a demon fresh out of a year of torture, and even _more_ freshly impaled. Early on, it became a point of focus that the injury wouldn't heal normally. _It should be gone by now,_ Meg had insisted between clenched teeth just hours after the two met. The next day, laying on a motel bed with makeshift bandaging holding her together, she had grumbled something of that very nature once again. At one point, Charlie had the _audacity_ to suggest that, _maybe_ , getting stabbed by a heavenly weapon and surviving could've turned one human. Meg had quickly shut that idea down with blackened eyes and empty threats.

The current theory was that, instead of Meg herself dying, her meatsuit had taken the fatal hit instead, and she was now parading around in a _very difficult to heal_  empty vessel.

She wasn't exactly friendly company – in fact, she was rude to Charlie on most occasions. Not long after their first meeting, however, past the initial awkwardness and terror, the two came upon an agreement. Charlie would care for Meg’s injuries and teach her the ropes of living undercover in a world full of human beings, and in return, Meg would protect her, sheltering her from the world of the demonic and paranormal. It was a mutually beneficial relationship, and Charlie had to admit it — Meg, even with her snark and rudeness, was a total **_babe_**. Really, she was _smoking_. Literally. Because she was a demon, and her form outside of possession was literally smoke.

Here the two of them were, sitting by each other. In Charlie’s lap, a dry erase board with a written down checklist.

“Meg, let's review this,” Charlie's tone was unusually optimistic for someone sitting beside an actual hellspawn. “What are the rules for coexisting with humans?”

With fingertips pressed to her forehead, Meg let out an impatient groan of a noise before reciting the list. “No stabbing innocent civilians. Don't get caught breaking the law in front of everyone. No incantations in public. _Blah, blah_.  _Human stuff._ ”

“You're getting it,” Charlie reached over to give the woman a gentle but encouraging pat on the shoulder. Meg had taken off her jacket for the time being, revealing numerous bruises and scabs along her arms. Her wrists still showed chafing from being bound for _god knows how long_ , and Charlie made her best effort not to stare. She hadn't asked much about the torture, figured it could've upset Meg, and worried she wouldn't know where to begin with such a heavy and mortifying topic.

“Are you sure all of these guidelines are necessary?” Meg made a disgusted face at Charlie. “This isn't _Lilo and Stitch_. I'm not going to be your adorable alien pet who you teach to _be good_. I'm from Hell, remember? Morals don’t just come naturally to me.”

“I know, but maybe you can learn how to safely live in society.” A pause. “Do you like _Lilo and Stitch_?” Charlie _had_ to inquire about the reference. For someone with a sinister past that the Winchesters had trouble trusting, Meg didn't seem like the type to enjoy animated films like that.

Meg shrugged. “I've had my fun on Earth, between sessions of _roasting in Hellfire_. Who doesn't like a good movie now and then?”

Charlie couldn't hide a grin surfacing on her features. “You're a fan of movies, huh? Sounds like we've got more in common than I thought,” she said.

“Maybe,” Meg answered, making a gesture at the board. “I still think this plan is pathetic, for someone like me.”

“Well, you haven't been found out yet by any of the demons who want you dead, have you?”

A shake of the head, tousling the demon’s already untidy, unevenly bleached locks of hair. “All safe and sound, for the time being. I _guess_ I'm better off with you than I am on my own, as usual. Hiding my ass and letting this damn hole in my torso is much easier when you're around.”

(Maybe, _just_ maybe, there was a part of Meg that cared. Perhaps she didn't want to be alone anymore, and perhaps she was tired of being left behind by supposed allies. Either way, she was here, wasn't she?)

“Glad to be of service — and, who knows, maybe you'll be able to channel your demonic rage and use your abilities for good, you know?” Charlie gave Meg a small nudge, to which Meg reacted with a curious expression. “You could be a vigilante, or something, like _Dexter_. Only you're a gorgeous lady…” She caught herself there, stuttering, her face flushed. “I– I mean, y- you're, um… _whoops_! Did you hear that?”

Meg had to laugh. “Every word. You think I'm a _gorgeous lady_ , huh? Even if I'm a _creepy little monster?_ ”

“A- are the two mutually exclusive?” Charlie nervously drummed her fingers against her jeans. She couldn't help but shiver with excitement as Meg leaned in closer, eying her almost _hungrily_.

“Not at all,” slid through Meg’s lips, beautiful as they were, and _whoops, Charlie was definitely staring at her lips now._ “Though, really, I'm not surprised. I've seen the way you've looked at me, Bradbury.”

This wasn't the turn Charlie expected this to take, and she certainly hadn't taken Meg in with the intention of _getting lucky_ , though she truthfully had no complaints about the way Meg spoke to her. “Yeah?” the redhead asked softly, “What, um… what do you think?” The longer that Meg watched her, the greater Charlie's appetite and desire grew.

“I think I like what I see, too.” Meg’s hand rested confidently on Charlie's knee, and it sent another shiver down the redhead’s spine. “Tell me, Charlie, would you like to put all of these _rules studies_ aside and have some _real_ fun?” Her tone, suggesting in nature and sultry in words, was all Charlie needed.

“Would I ever,” Charlie answered, leaning into a kiss that lit her passion aflame.

Studying _guidelines_ could wait until later.


End file.
